


till kingdom come (i'll wait for you)

by Robinn



Series: Hesitance is hinderance [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Connor is an idiot, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Pining, blink and you miss it angst, but so is Leon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 12:00:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10990515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robinn/pseuds/Robinn
Summary: Connor always liked Leon. He liked the level-headed way Leon played. He liked his prescence in the locker room. He liked what Leon brought to the table when it came to game strategy. He liked how when Leon laughed his tongue always poked out just a tad. The latter being something he just started to notice at the beginning of this twenty-sixteen to twenty-seventeen season. Also something he couldn't stop noticing and probably never will.





	till kingdom come (i'll wait for you)

Connor always liked Leon. He liked the level-headed way Leon played. He liked his prescence in the locker room. He liked what Leon brought to the table when it came to game strategy. He liked how when Leon laughed his tongue always poked out just a tad. The latter being something he just started to notice at the beginning of this twenty-sixteen to twenty-seventeen season.

It's not as if Connor  _wants_  to go googly eyed every time Leon does something, he just can't help it. It's like giving a kid chocolate and telling him he's not allowed to eat it. No one can place a perfect specimen in front of him that looks like- well, that, and tell him no. Albeit, it's not like he's ever going to do anything about it anyway. Pat can bug him all he wants and call them love birds, but he would rather suffer through injury than say something he can never take back.

It stings just a bit, not having the freedom to show actual interest in Leon. Sometimes Connor wishes they were strangers who met at the grocery store. That way it would be so easy to let touches linger and not be weird about it, to flirt freely without the fear of causing a disturbance. It would be absolute hell if he made his feelings known only to be rejected. Ruining a friendship is one thing, but making the locker room an awkward place for everyone would be even worse. So, Connor just settles with admiring at far, he's done it before, this isn't the first time he's found himself attracted to a teammate. He distantly hopes it's the last time.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A window is open Connor notices. A cool draft is coming from somewhere, he just can't pin point its exact location. His fingers drift on the back the love seat as he strides across the room. Sure enough, the window is cracked open, allowing spring air to filter into his apartment. Distant sounds of cars buzzing by cut through the silence. He takes a moment to look out across Edmonton. So many little people busy with their own problems, running around with set destinations. Not one person under the spotlight of the whole world. He envies them deep down.

Connor's phone buzzes in his pocket, breaking his string of thoughts. He reaches down to retrieve the device. He eyes the text displayed there. It's Nurse, asking him about some offhand thing. He doesn't bother answering, rather tossing his phone onto a chair a few feet away. He flicks his eyes back out the window, taking one last glance before shutting it. He can't remember if he opened it before he left earlier, or it just somehow opened by itself. Doesn't matter anyhow. He has bigger worries to think about.

It was game day, their first home game against the ducks in this series. The Oilers captain couldn't exactly say if he felt like a bundle of nerves. It was more a dull pulse in the back of his mind than anything. They won their last two, however there was still improvements that needed to be made. He thinks offhandedly he could have done better, but he thinks that a lot so it's not anything to stress over.

Connor scrubbed his face instinctively, trying to rub all the thoughts away. He had just gotten back from lunch with Leon. It was nothing special, just normal lunch any pair of teammates would have. But that's just what he was trying tell himself. He couldn't stop replaying everything that was said in his head. Every laugh Leon belted out, and every time he caught the older staring at him for no reason kept rolling over in his head. They've had many lunches before. Many alone and some with a group of people, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this lunch was somehow _different_. Like Leon was acting just bit friendlier than normal, that maybe he was laughing a bit too hard at every attempt of a joke Connor made. He desperately wanted to keep that sliver of hope alive, but like any unwanted fire, he stomped it out as quickly as possible. He couldn't- he absolutely would not let himself think there was something there after months of keeping his feelings at bay.

"Enough of that." Connor says to an empty apartment, glaring at his reflection in the window glass. He's spent too long carefully maintaining himself for silly things like hope to come rampaging through. So that is that, and maybe Connor lets his stomach flip at the fleeting thought of Leon actually returning his feelings, but as quickly as it came, it's gone.

 

* * *

 

Bright red numbers displaying '6-3' blink boldly on the video board in Rogers Place. The game is over and all that's left in the arena are his team, fleeing fans and celebratory ducks. It was like game four all over again against the sharks. And boy, it stung like a snake bite. Connor was tired, frustrated, and beyond everything, pissed off. His shoulders slumped as he walked down the hall to the locker room. Many things raced through his brain as he sat heavily down in his stall. All he wanted to do was undress, shower, and go to bed. However, he knew only reporters waited on the other side of the dressing room doors. There's distant murmurs of his teammates, but nothing really sinks in right now.

The captain is just about finished untying his skates when he feels a pat on the shoulder. Dazed, he lifts his head and meets a pair of striking blue eyes. "You played well." Leon announces as if this was something he was most sure of. Connor can't help but to snort, and that's the only reply Leon is going to get. He flicks his gaze back to the ground, shaking off his skates and turning uncomfortably to hang them up. He fails to notice Leon's hand still firmly in place on his back.

"Hey," Leon squeezes Connor's shoulder to gain his attention. "My math says it's still Two-one." The German offers a small knowing smile. A sigh leaves Connor's chapped lips. He supposed that's true. All the tension bled out of his shoulders. Connor drew air through his nose before meeting Leon's eyes, a half smile in place.

"Yeah." The captain breathed out. They stayed like that for a while, just looking at each other. He has really pretty blue eyes Connor thinks. Eventually, Leon lets his hand fall, his fingers brushing down the long of Connor's back before he makes his leave. The touch lingers on his spine for longer than he'd appreciate.

"Two-one is a good spot." The twenty year old says to himself more than anything. After a few minutes he cleans himself up and makes his way to the press. He repeats what he said minutes before, this time with more ears listening.

 

* * *

 

Methodical drumming of fingers reverberate through the air. Connor sat at the kitchen island, leg bouncing without rhythm in his bar stool. He mindlessly scrolled through Instagram, anxiously waiting for the familiar chime of his door bell. He invited Leon over for- well, he didn't actually know what for, although it was nothing out of the ordinary. They've done this quite often in the past couple months, just Leon coming over to chill. However, Connor could never stop fidgeting, even if there was no reason to feel nervous. He could never qualm the excited beat of his pulse. No matter how many times Leon has come over to make this a normal thing.

He has feeling that same fluttery feeling that maybe this was more than just hanging out, which it _wasn't_. His mind kept wandering back to Leon's unnecessary rub down the back. He swore he could still feel the warmth of the German's hand. It made him want scratch endlessly, forever, to get rid of the itch. Now that he thinks of it, maybe it'd be best if he kept his distance to ensure this fluttery bullshit keeps to itself.

Too late. The door bell rang a pretty sound, startling Connor enough for him to jolt. He distractedly dropped his phone on the counter, jumping up to go greet his guest. He quickly carded a hand through his hair before swinging the door open.

"Hey." Leon said, his signature side smirk in place- and holy shit he looks hot. His KC hat sat backwards and slightly crooked on his head, tufts of hair sticking out the front. His playoff beard was somewhat scruffier than normal, like he didn't take the time to fix it. He wore a nice pair of fitted jeans. His white v-neck was possibly a bit too small, albeit it did hug his biceps and shoulders nicely- and fuck, he's staring isn't he.

Connor's eyes widened for moment, in shock that he actually just let himself observe like a creep. It's been quiet for too long, say something dammit. "H-hey" he stuttered out, coughing immediately after. Rookie fucking mistake McDavid. Before he could do something to make it worse, he side stepped, allowing Leon to enter, making sure to stare straight ahead. And if the older noticed him ogling for what? A good five seconds? Without saying hello, he didn't mention it.

The twenty year old shut the door with a quiet 'click', and allowed himself to linger there for a moment. Internally he was violently banging his head against the door and chanting 'idiot'. Externally, however, he was glaring darkly at the floor boards. Before he could dwell on for it too long (who's he kidding, he's going to be thinking about it the whole time), he turned to follow Leon.

Connor stuffed his hands into his pockets, afraid they'd do something he didn't want them to. Leon had already made himself comfortable on the couch, eyeing something on his phone. Connor tithed his throat to gain his attention, which elicited the German's steady gaze.

"You want a drink?" Connor was mildly surprised his voice didn't crack. Leon made a face and shook his head.

"Later. I brought a movie for us to watch tonight, if you'd like." The Oiler's winger produced the movie in question- where'd he even get it from- and shook it in Connor's direction.

"Yeah, that's good." The hockey captain praised himself on the inside for actually sounding normal for the first time today. He wasted no time in plopping onto the couch, a ways away from Leon, but not too far where it'd be abnormal.

 

 

  
The day seemed to speed by in relative normality, normality as in Connor didn't slip up again. He's still absolutely astounded that he physically allowed himself to do that. Months, and he means months of acting cool, keeping everything at bay then this. He's so good at keeping his emotions to himself. Sometimes he's too good that he comes off as standoffish, but that's besides the point. And maybe it was just him staring for too long- wait, nope, there's no excuse to make him feel better. He stared like a fool and gaped like a fish, that's all there is to it.

Thank goodness it was dark in his apartment, because he could feel the heat pool in his face once again. How many times has he thought about the event and got red today? Many. Did Leon notice? He hopes the fuck not. He's such an idiot.

It was just about time to put in the movie- some lesser known horror, he distantly remembers the name. The sun had already sunk beneath the horizon, darkening the living Room. The curtains were shut and the only light in the flat came from his kitchen.

"I'm ready for that drink now." Leon muttered, standing from where he just put the disk in the DVD player.

"In the fridge, bottom rack." Connor replied, not taking the time to look away from his phone. He heard the older hum before walking off. If he said he didn't watch Leon's back end as he started towards the kitchen, he'd be lying.

Leon returned in quick time, falling easily onto the couch, much closer than he was before. They sat on opposite ends of the couch all day, yet now he's a mere foot away. Which startles Connor in way he can't explain. He tries not to think about it, but fails, miserably he might add.

The movie starts and Connor already can't concentrate. He's torn between wanting to lean away and lean in- both are horrible ideas. He dazedly thinks that maybe if he got up to go do something and sat in a different spot, maybe, just maybe it wouldn't be noticeable. And Lord he can smell Leon's cologne. This is not good. Why is he having such trouble keeping his cool today? On a bad day he can withstand seeing Leon half naked and have it not affect him, and that's a bad day. He doesn't even know what to categorize this day as.

A quarter of the way through the movie Connor is internally crying for help. He's managed to stop himself from fidgeting every five minutes, but he really, really wants to move. It seems as though Leon has edged closer. He also has delicately laid his arm on back rest, behind Connor and he can feel the heat radiating from it. That's how close his arm is. Might as well be slung over his shoulders. This is torture. God is just dangling a juicy five course meal in front of a starved man.

Leon likes girls, the Oiler's captain knows this. He's known it since the first time he saw his teammate walk out of the bar with a pretty blonde, and it wasn't the last time. Leon has never really shown any interest in men, or, at least that Connor has noticed. There's no way the Oiler's winger would be interested him. So if you asked him why the hell Leon is sitting close- too close with his arm inches away from being around his shoulders, he'd probably just up and die. Right there.

"I need some water." The announcement startles both Leon and himself, despite the words coming from his own mouth. The older nods, lifting his arm from the back of the couch to lay by his side. Connor retreats to the kitchen, taking his sweet time in getting water he didn't even need. Eventually he makes his way back to the couch. The movie is almost over, maybe twenty minutes left. Sucking a breath in, the twenty year old sits back down. He belatedly realizes Leon has shifted to sit farther away from him. He doesn't even try to figure out what that means.

Soon the movie credits roll, signalling its time for Connor and Leon to get up. Connor goes to slowly follow the Oiler's winger movements in leaving the couch. He distractedly watches Leon take the disk and put it back in its case before standing up. Silence ensues. He doesn't really know what to say, and a part of him feels like this is awkward silence, but he's too lost in his head to notice.

"Well I guess I should," Leon makes a weird gesture with his hands, pointing towards the door.

"Huh-" Connor looks up at his teammate, realization coming to slap him in the face mid sentence. "Oh! Oh, yeah, I suppose..." He kind of wants to dig a hole and live in it.

They sit there for another moment, like they don't know what to do with themselves. Leon makes the first move, starting towards the door. Connor follows immediately after because his mother taught him right. He has no idea why it's so weird right now. It's never like this, ever. They're always normal when they hang out, just as if they were on the ice.

"Well, I'll see you later." The German smiles, not genuine, more fake looking as of he doesn't know how to work his face. He seems as though he wants to say something more, but nothing comes.

"Yeah, for sure." Connor replies. He grabs the door knob, holding it open. Leon slips out, making quick way down the hall. And with that, he shuts the door and locks it.

"What the fuck." Connor hits his head against the door, once, twice, and a third time for good measure. That was probably the most awkward farewell he's had with anyone, ever. He doesn't know why. Part of him thinks it's his fault and the other part blames Leon for acting weird himself.

He feels itchy and uncomfortable all over. He can't shake the fact that it wasn't just him acting weird, it was Leon too. Two sides of his brain are at war for his attention. One side is freaking out over his teammate's actions today, on the couch, and the other is blaring all the things he did to make it worse. Oh, and there's a small part of his brain that's trying to broadcast that thing call hope. Hope that maybe- hold up, nope, stop right there. He just wants to forget about the evening, so in order for that to happen, he goes straight to bed. It'll all be better in the morning he tells himself.

**Author's Note:**

> This happens before the events of 'Only when I'm with you'
> 
> I was gonna finish this but got bored so ‘shrug emoji’


End file.
